


Breathe

by Sirhorsealot



Series: Danganronpa Femslash One-Shots [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Family Issues, Femslash February, Like one swear, Pre-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Probably ooc, References to Illness, talking about shared daddy issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirhorsealot/pseuds/Sirhorsealot
Summary: Mukuro is by no means a social person. So, what happens when nearly the whole class gets sick? ... And why does she seem to care so much about a certain detective's problems?Best summary I've got at the moment, focuses much more on Kyoko and Mukuro than the other students.
Relationships: Ikusaba Mukuro/Kirigiri Kyoko
Series: Danganronpa Femslash One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943971
Comments: 20
Kudos: 27





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> If you somehow missed the tags, there's literally one swear word in here XDD  
> You have been warned ;3

If there was anything to truly dislike about winter, it was the fact that socializing vehemently became a must. From holiday festivities to sickness, like that one chore that no one wanted to claim, Mukuro felt about as delighted talking to people as she did disappointing her sister - that is to say, not very much. She wouldn’t go so far as to call herself anti-social, but she never knew what to say and her mercenary training taught her never to trust others, so there was little merit in being a social butterfly in her book. Junko, of course, thrived by getting to know people. She _was_ always the gifted one.

There were a few exceptions to this generality, however. Makoto was always an honest, earnest person that believed wholeheartedly in Mukuro, and she for the life of her couldn’t figure out why. It was a bit strange to be totally honest. Then there was Chihiro, though the tiny boy would often flinch at her presence for the sheer passing thought that she'd at some point slaughtered countless enemies. Mondo wasn’t too hard to get along with either, so long as you didn’t piss him off or get in the way of some promise.

But among them all, the classmate that she had the most complicated feelings towards was, in fact, Kyoko. The stone-cold detective reminded Mukuro quite a bit of herself in many ways - trained to find dishonesty and overthink everything, complete with a past obscure enough to keep people guessing and just jarring enough to put them off. Really, it was almost poetic.

Now, on a normal day that wouldn't mean much of anything; on a normal day she could keep to herself or Junko, on occasion Makoto with even slimmer chances of speaking with her other classmates past a sentence or two. Today wasn't a normal day. Winter had done what it did best and gotten over half of the class sick with high fevers that were highly contagious within the first thirty-six hours. Taka had tried to show up to class in the morning, but he'd been sent straight to his dorm with a quick hand to the forehead.

That left a measly handful of people in the class. Celeste was present, and with how shrewd she was there was no surprise there. Byakuya was similarly accounted for and canny. Toko, though certainly not clean by any loose definition of the term, had one tough cookie of an immune system and it was practically impossible to get her sick. Sakura was a bit similar - Mukuro would be more taken aback if the hulking Ogre was even able to get sick in the first place.

And then there was Kyoko. She fell somewhere between the shrewdness of Celeste and Byakuya, and the near-exemption from illness of Toko and Sakura. It was difficult to tell with Kyoko, as everything with her was. Any semblance of emotion disintegrated from her face once she had to talk to anyone other than Makoto or perhaps her father, so Mukuro's perception of the detective was obscured by a carefully constructed veil of indifference and impartiality.

As she mused to herself about this, class abruptly came to a halt with a familiar bell and Mukuro had to fumble to get her bag. The six of them wordlessly shuffled out of the room, splitting up to partake in odd post-school activities. Celeste seemed to be moving for the entrance hall, and Mukuro politely thought to herself that Celeste would _never_ make it down the street in her fashion taste in winter normally, let alone with the heavy snowfall outside. Byakuya stalked off, likely aiming for the library, Toko of course not far behind. Sakura went the other direction, mumbling something to herself that sounded an awful lot like protein.

Kyoko, much like the others, had a straight and narrow trajectory. Today it would seem, by Mukuro's estimations, either a beeline for her dorm or another visit to the Headmaster's Office to argue with her father. A turn to the right instead of the left sealed the deal - her father it was. Feeling curiosity begin welling up inside herself, Mukuro couldn't help but follow the detective from a distance. Of course, it was only because Junko wasn't around today. No, she wasn't sick; she just _pretended_ to be to have an excuse to skip out on class. Master plans wouldn't come up with themselves after all, now would they?

Mukuro caught a glance of lavender hair floating by as she rounded a corner of the stairwell. At the sight of it, she became heavily aware of herself and was sure to make as little of a clamor as possible - to regulate her breathing and steps to make them more efficient and simultaneously nearly noiseless. What betrayed her was her heart, which was a bit speedier than she would've liked to acknowledge to anyone other than herself.

She grew steadily nearer to the top level of the building, ears picking up on the cacophony of Kyoko's steps as they thrummed in invisible rhythm. By the time she rounded the final corner, that lengthy lavender hair was slipping into the Headmaster's Office. No noise escaped the room - it was specially designed to be soundproof, so as not to endanger the air of secrecy it was meant to provide. Now, Mukuro was faced with a bit of a conundrum. Stay, and risk Kyoko's likely subdued or murderous reaction. Or leave now, and pretend this never happened. She knew which option was the easier choice, it was practically spelled out for her.

But something made her pause. A brief cascade of memories, tiny instances from earlier that year, pushed Mukuro to instead wait it out and reconcile Kyoko after what would inevitably be another disappointment or dispute. She couldn't really say what, of those recollections, made her stay. But she felt by some strange sense that she should. And her instincts for conflict were spot-on; not a minute later, Kyoko stormed out of the room with a troubled look, slamming the door behind her. Mukuro stepped in alongside her, carefully keeping her face cleared of all potentially enraging emotions. They began down the stairs again, and Kyoko shifted her gaze over to Mukuro with a now pensive look on her face.

"Can I help you?" Her speech was expectedly frosty and guarded, but not entirely uninviting. Mukuro doubled her resolve and continued forward.

"I just thought you might appreciate an open ear, considering that Makoto's bedridden," Mukuro explained, posture stiff. Kyoko narrowed her eyes.

"I don't recall asking for a babysitter," she replied coolly. Mukuro visibly flinched, cursing her conversational weakness. On a battlefield, her strength was boundless. In ordinary speech, Mukuro was probably one of the biggest cowards to ever walk the planet. She couldn't help but think of Junko's disapproving glare, her unending jabs at how weak and pathetic Mukuro was. She stopped walking, fully intending to leave Kyoko alone and nearly tripping on a step as she momentarily forgot her surroundings. But before she could fall too far into herself, the other girl tapped her shoulder, bringing her back to reality.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to sound so snappish," the lavender-haired girl amended. Her violet eyes were intense as she spoke, but still relinquished a bit of their vexation. She sighed in relief to herself; she was making progress then. Mukuro was a bit too keen to start shaking her head furiously as she fished for something to say in return.

"N-no need! I shouldn't have butted into someone else's business," she apologized in kind. The bitter air seemed to dissipate after those words were exchanged, and though they remained silent as they reached the bottom of the stairs, it was a more comfortable trip than either wanted to say - lest they ruin the unspoken treaty just as it was beginning.

"So why did you bother following me here if you had nothing to say?" Kyoko was the one who broke the easy peace, analytical as always.

"I know that you and your father aren't on the best of terms. I guess I just wanted you to know that you aren't alone," Mukuro lamely explained. It sounded much less... juvenile in her mind. Kyoko paused for a brief moment as she affixed the soldier with an unreadable expression.

"That implies that you've experienced something similar."

"I have," Mukuro affirmed with a nod. The other girl just gave her a look as if to say "go on", so the words kept flowing. "I don't know how much you know about Junko or I, but our home life growing up was pretty rocky. There's a reason neither of us talk to our parents anymore, and why I joined Fenrir at such a young age." She absentmindedly stroked her thumb over her tattoo as the spoke the last line, a part of her mind remembering back to those days. Kyoko made a small noise in understanding, and her body posture was relatively open and friendly, arms uncrossed and instead a hand finding it's way to her chin in thought. Sensing this shift, she ventured further. "I could tell you about it, if you want to hear...?"

"If you will," Kyoko nodded, rapt by the prospects of unraveling just one more inch of the soldier's mysterious childhood. She herself wouldn't call it very exciting, but the dark-haired girl could at least notice when something had a bit of ubiquitous charm.

"Well, our parents weren't officially married... ever, actually. They spent too much money on gambling to be able to afford a pricey ceremony, especially with the way they fought all the time. …I don't think it would be an exaggeration to call our house a battlefield. They were constantly arguing, and when they did, hiding with Junko was all I could do about it. I could never let myself forget that, and began taking an interest in law and order. It had to be when Junko and I were about six that I really got into the concept of the military in particular." Kyoko nodded, her fingers lightly reaching across the distance between them to brush over Mukuro's knuckles ever so slightly to remind the other girl that she was still listening. Their footsteps, clacking down the corridors, seemed almost to be in another world now.

"Our parents split up and each took one of us. Junko went with our mother, and I went with our father. Junko's never really talked about her time with our mother, but my father was a hardass. Everything had to be done perfectly, no exceptions. Failure in this would result in punishment." With a shaky breath, Mukuro hazarded a glance over to the lavender-haired girl, the two now just doing aimless laps around the school's halls, and her violet eyes were clouded with indecipherable emotion. Not knowing what else to do, she kept talking, now keenly aware of Kyoko's gloved fingers brushing against hers in the silence. "In the end, they always got back together. But after the fourth time, I decided I should just go out and do what I'd always wanted and joined a mercenary group. I figured that it had to be easier - or at least more fulfilling - than living with our parents..."

"That sounds... awful," Kyoko finally responded, staring off in introspection. "To be honest, I don't remember much of my childhood. You seem to have far more immediate reason to hate your father than I do mine." Mukuro didn't reply to that, she just turned her stone eyes to the ground as she began to think. A couple brief flashes of memories went off behind her eyes, and she was remembering the time they'd spent on the street, the fleeting month that they'd lived with another family. "Was it more fulfilling?" Kyoko's sudden addition almost startled the dark-haired girl, and she raised an eyebrow at the detective.

"What do you mean?"

"Doing what you were passionate about... Was it more fulfilling than staying?" Mukuro paused. She hadn't poured much time into that line of thought, had seen it as done and in the past. The only regret she'd had from that time was leaving Junko behind. Though that guilt was what ultimately brought her back to Japan, in every other field she was indeed more fulfilled. So in a way, abandoning her beloved sister made Mukuro happier. Some older sister she turned out to be.

"Yeah, I guess," she said with some hesitation. "The only thing that brought me back was Junko really, so I can't say that I missed my old life much, other than her, after I left." Kyoko seemed satisfied by that answer, but Mukuro felt compelled to continue; to keep speaking. Like now that she had opened the gates of her mind this far, there was no closing them. "But... I've wondered recently if it's really okay to just run towards that one goal. Up until now, that and my relationship with Junko are all I've strived for, all I've worked to cultivate. But there are so many _other_ things I could be doing. Who's to say that being a soldier is really what I should want in life... I mean, aren't dreams supposed to change as you grow up?" Mukuro glanced back over at Kyoko and felt her face heat up with a sudden rush of regret. The other girl looked taken aback by her sudden outburst in a way she had never seen before.

"... Sorry," she mumbled as an apology. Sorry for being so stupid, sorry for expecting her to care. A thousand apologies, unspoken, filled her head, but she couldn't settle on only one to speak. The lone word just hung there. Kyoko continued to look stunned for a few moments, and Mukuro was all but certain that she'd get the silent treatment or a hand to the face. That sinking feeling, of disappointing someone yet again, filled her chest and made her heart heavy in it's place.

But just then a tiny smile worked it's way onto the detective's face, and she fully reached across the space between them and grasped Mukuro's unimpressive hand firmly in her own. The hand-holding would be strange enough under normal circumstances, but Kyoko was not one to smile. Somehow seeming to sense this thought, Kyoko waved away her concerns with her unoccupied hand.

"I didn't expect to hear something so philosophical from you," she clarified, trying to cover the upturned lips. Mukuro blinked dumbly. Was it really so startling that it warranted such a strong reaction? It just made her feel awkward and embarrassed. They both just sort of stood there, stopped in the middle of the hallway containing the dorms, avoiding each other's eyes. "I'd like to continue getting to know you, if that isn't an issue." Mukuro jumped a little at Kyoko's once-again sudden words. Taking a few seconds to process what she said, the soldier nodded perhaps a tad too forcefully as her neck began to ache slightly. This only seemed to make her face warmer.

"Yeah, it's not a problem," she managed to mumble out. Her eyes stared at the wall to Kyoko's right, suddenly finding it incredibly interesting. Before they had any chance to let things end at that like many of their past interactions, all-too-quickly Kyoko's face was far too close to her's. She just held it there, eyes intense, entire body on edge and waiting. The soldier, for all her training and combat experience, had no idea what to do.

"I don't think you hear this enough." Her voice was steady. It made Mukuro feel overwhelmingly flighty. "But I appreciate you going out of your way to console me. You didn't need to," Kyoko said this evenly, never once breaking eye contact. Her hands were both grasping Mukuro's left hand firmly now, but not to the point of force. Mukuro, for probably the twentieth time that day, nodded like it was the only thing she knew how to do. Kyoko swiftly released them, seemingly content, and backed away to allow the dark-haired girl her personal space again. However, Mukuro was reaching out and grabbing her hands back before she could even understand what she was doing. The other girl gave her a questioning look, making no move to stop her. In fact, the soldier would argue that it was remarkably easy to pull Kyoko back towards her.

"Th-thank... you," Mukuro said, voice just as jittery as her heart was. Her vision wildly moved, avoiding that scrutinizing gaze like the plague. What was she doing? Every time she attempted to recall her thoughts on the matter, there was no answer to be found. It was like her head was jammed full, filled to the brim with tv static - nothing but incoherent noise. Kyoko seemed to come to an understanding of what she was trying to do, though. The ultimate detective leaned forward very, very slowly, offering every opportunity for Mukuro to pull away, every conceivable chance to put an end to this insanity before it progressed too far - and their lips brushed.

It was a simple, innocent touch really; completely undeserving of the utter loss of composure it elicited from the usually so-stoic soldier. Every muscle in Mukuro's body froze in shock for a few moments, before then surging with heat and sheer mortification as her brain began to make sense of what was happening. All in all, it lasted no more than seven seconds. But in those seven seconds, Mukuro could swear that she forgot how to breathe.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Kyoko spoke so lowly, Mukuro was sure that even Junko, with all her talent, would've had trouble hearing her. Dazed, she nodded. In the end, she was left with nothing but herself and that phantom touch as Kyoko chuckled to herself, short of breath as well, and strolled away. For the following four seconds, she could do nothing more than stand and watch her go with that promise spanning between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, got this out! Now I need to work on the next chapter of Bitterest Tears XDD  
> I revised this like six separate times because I didn't think Mukuro and Kyoko were in-character enough when talking. Even now, though it's better, I still can't help but be a tad bit unhappy with how it came out :/ Oh well  
> When I saw some Femslash February prompts and stuff, I thought I'd try it out myself and the product is this rare-pair one-shot ^^ I'm not entirely sure why I ship these two, but they deserve more love! I especially feel like a lot of the people who write them leave them as barely acquaintances or in a pre-existing relationship, so I wanted to provide a story where they're sort of transitioning into something more without being too out of place XP  
> Anyway, sorry for all the rambles! Thank you for reading ^^


End file.
